


Home Sweet Home

by Descended_from_Hufflepuffs



Series: Carry on my (Prodigal) Son [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Because I can, Dean in a Suit, Determined Winchesters, Gen, Insomniac Sam, Prodigal Son AU, Rich Sam and Dean, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descended_from_Hufflepuffs/pseuds/Descended_from_Hufflepuffs
Summary: Sam Wesson (formerly Winchester) has returned home after being fired from the FBI. What horrors await him both inside and outside of his mind?
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Carry on my (Prodigal) Son [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060895
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Home Sweet Home

_“Son, I need you to remember something.”_

_Sam stared at John in silence, both from shock at his discovery and from being overwhelmed at all the activity around them. Police were all over the house and the sirens were just shy of loud enough to cover the noise from the reporters outside._

_“I have to go away now. But I need you to listen to me. We’re the same.”_

_Sam felt someone lift him up and turn him away (Dean, his mind supplied). “Get him out of here!” was heard among the noise as they traveled deeper into the house and up the stairs._

_“It’s okay, Sammy. We’re gonna be okay...”_

\------------

Sam Wesson sat on the kitchen island in his apartment, nursing a cup of tea. It was early, far earlier than any sane person would be awake, but he had a lot on his mind. Liekt he fact that he was fired from the FBI for stupid reasons and now was back in New York for the foreseeable future.

_3….2...1…_

“Good morning, Sammy.” He refrained from rolling his eyes as his older brother waltzed into his apartment without formal warning. Again.

“Morning. Why are you up?”

“Oh, I just wanted to check in with you before I really started my day.” Dean’s smile was familiar but painfully fake to anyone that cared to notice. Dean’s smiles stopped reaching his eyes twenty years ago and Sam often wondered if he’d ever really smile again. “I’m so sorry about all that FBI business, not that I ever approved of you working there. But now you’re free and you can forget about all that murder business and relax for a bit. When’s the last time you took a vacation or went to a party? Speaking of which, I’ve been invited to a charity dinner with the Richardsons and they have a lovely daughter, Amelia, who’s an absolute doll-”

“Dean.” He gave the best smile he could and set down his tea. “It’s just past four in the morning. You don’t have to lie to me.”

Predictably, Dean rolled his eyes and wandered over to the tea pot. “What do you want me to say, Sam? That I’m worried about you? That finding out the FBI fired you is the best news I’ve heard in ten years? That I’m as much as I like having you here I’m worried this is just the first step towards you-” He stopped suddenly and pointedly stared into his tea.

Sam sighed and hopped down from the counter. “You’re worried I’ll see him again.”

“Of course I’m worried. The only good thing about you running off to serve penance for his crimes was that you wouldn’t be seeing him anymore! Those visits only ever made you worse and I wish I’d never given you the option to go in the first place.”

“Dean, it’s been ten years. I know I can’t go back to that relationship. I’ve been away and I’m going to stay away.”

“....You said that when you started at Stanford too,” he muttered. “You still snuck back to him every weekend.”

“He was a helpful source for my papers.” Sam clinched his hand into a fist to stop the tremors. “Is there a reason for this visit?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“You’ve been worried about me for the last twenty years.”

“With good reason.” Dean sighed deeply. “Sammy...I don’t want to fight with you. I want you to be happy or at least try to be.”

“And your proposal to achieve that is?”

“Come work with me.” 

Sam tilted his head curiously. “Work with you?”

“Yes. Sam, you’re an amazing profiler and I could use your help. You know I’m trying to bring the Winchester name back into New York’s good graces and I’m sure it would be no trouble at all for you to use those skills to find the right places for me to invest our money.”

“Dean-”

“Sam, you know just as well as I do that if you don’t have work you get stir-crazy and your insistence on living alone can’t be helping matters. You want to have purpose in this world? You want to make up for our father’s crimes? Work with me. You’ll kill two birds with one stone and it’ll keep you from being tempted by any other offers.”

Sam looked at Dean, really looked at him, for the first time in years. During his employment with the FBI, he’d barely had time to text or call Dean and any short visits he did were mostly spent by him recovering from injuries and his older brother playing nurse. He could see that the bags under Dean’s eyes had gotten deeper, though they were carefully concealed and most people would miss them. His suit was impeccable, as expected, but the small wrinkles indicated that he’d likely been sitting in it for a while, likely sitting in the car debating whether or not to come upstairs. His hair was carefully combed and styled, a far cry from the wild spikes of his youth. His face was completely clean-shaven, the opposite of their father’s beard. In conclusion: Dean looked perfect but he felt anything but. Combine that with the way his hands fidgeted with the cufflinks of his jacket and….

“What are you not telling me?”

Dean sighed, turning to look him in the eyes for the first time since he arrived. “...There’s been some...disturbing murders in the city lately.” Sam sat on a bar stool at the island, waiting for his brother to continue. “Nothing’s been released of course but...Do you remember Bobby?”

Of course he remembered Bobby. He was the man who arrested John and made the effort to check up on him for years after the arrest. “Bobby Singer. He’s Lieutenant in Major Crimes, right?”

“Yes, well…. I had coffee with him a few days ago and he shared some concerns with me.”

“Since when are you two on speaking terms?”

Dean rolled his eyes and ignored the question. “He’s worried John has a copycat.”

John Winchester. Notorious serial killer known to the public as The Hunter and a spectacular father to Dean Winchester and Sam Wesson. “...A copycat?” What would compel a person to replicate such brutal murders? And why specifically like The Hunter? There were simpler ways of killing someone and-  
  


“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you! You don’t even know if the NYPD wants you working the case and you’re already trying to solve it.”

“Dean-”

“Sam Winchester I am-”

“It’s Wesson and you can’t just keep things like this from me! We can’t hide from stuff like this.”

Dean scoffed. “Yes, ‘Wesson’, hiding is the last thing we should do. Why don’t we just start a call-in show so the great people of New York could mock us in real time?!”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to fight.”

“I don’t but I gladly will if you make me.”

By now they were standing toe-to-toe, barely an inch of space between them. Dean’s eyes practically glowed with frustration. “I am _not_ losing you to murder again. I know I can’t stop you from doing whatever the hell you want to do but this is a damn slippery slope and I’m not going to let you go down it without a fight!”

Sam forced himself to step back and take a breath. “...I know. I know Bobby will probably call once he figures out I’m back and I know I’ll want to go in and I know it’ll eventually lead to me seeing him again but what can I do? People are dying and I can stop it.”

“It’s not your job to. Bobby has a team of perfectly good detectives that can do the work. Him calling you in would be superfluous at best.”

Sam bit his lip and considered his options. One, he could tell Dean off for trying to keep this from him and go running to Bobby now and beg to help. Two, he could stay with Dean and ignore Bobby’s calls. Three…. “What if we made a deal?”

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “A deal?”

“If, _if_ , Bobby calls, I get to work the case. But only if he calls. And if he wants me to keep working for him, I get to say yes but I only go to the office if I get called. No working cold cases o-or showing up uninvited. I spend the rest of the time working with you with your charity stuff.”

Dean stared at him, clearly not expecting that offer. Then his gaze turned calculating. “I’ll agree on the condition that you don’t just abandon me as soon as you get a call. I’m sure you have to go to the scene of the crime or what have you but I can’t make excuses for you all the time.”

“Deal.”

Sam was back, baby.


End file.
